Keeping it in the bedroom.

I had a Very Bad, No Good, Horrible Terrible day at work today. I don't mean "late on TPS reports" bad, I mean that I was spat on and slapped and punched multiple times. And contrary to unnervingly popular opinion, liking that sort of thing in bed has fucking nothing to do with how I feel about it in the real world. (I feel somewhat negatively about it. Thanks for asking.)

It really bothers me when people draw this kind of connection between the real world and the sex world. I was almost as weirded out when a person at a kink meetup talked about her daughter chasing around and hitting the boys at her daycare, and remarked "she's turning into a little domme!" I know it's a joke, but ew. Ew, and also wrong because that's not what dommes do. Unless they're psychopaths, dommes don't run around hitting boys; they run around asking boys "can I hit you?" Kind of an important distinction.

Even when it's not violent, people saying things like "ooh, you work at a shoe store, you must have a foot fetish" and "ooh, you have a foot fetish, do you work at a shoe store?" ook me out equally. Again, I know, joke, but it's a much creepier joke than intended. Somewhere up there with "oh, you work at a morgue, are you a necrophiliac?"

Of course it's not really sex that draws the hard line between "ha ha, hitting" and "OH FUCK, hitting"; it's consent. If a foot fetishist indulges their fetish at work, it's not cute, because the customer didn't consent to foot-molestation. Seeing sex where there's no sex is déclassé; seeing sex where there's no consent is mega creepy.